


fools to make war

by meryah16



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Family, Gen, Temporary Character Death, but this one took over, ca:tws made me cry a lot, this was supposed to be a different story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4479251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meryah16/pseuds/meryah16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers: a tale of two brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fools to make war

**Author's Note:**

  * For [steepedinwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steepedinwords/gifts).



> Found the song, cried about Bucky in CA:TWS, and wrote the story.

> _These mist-covered mountains_  
>  _Are a home now for me_  
>  _But my home is the lowlands ___  
> _And always will be._  
> 

He’s staring, aghast, as the boy picks himself up again and launches himself at the other boys, fists pounding weakly against stronger flesh. They’re moving to surround the kid, cut him off from escape, and he can see the glint of metal.  
He moves in, and the other boys flee after thirty seconds. 

The kid is tiny, blond, and coughing like crazy, but he rolls over onto his back, blinking up at Bucky, and frowns.  
‘I coulda gotten them,’ he protests, and Bucky snorts, reaching down to give him a hand up. He can tell from the kid’s accent he’s a Mick, but Bucky’s Mama’s told him enough times that it’s the person, not where he comes from, that counts. 

On his feet, the kid’s almost a foot shorter than him, and he’s ridiculously skinny, and won’t stop coughing, but he stands proud and Bucky knows he won’t accept his help. They size each other up.  
‘I’m Bucky.’  
‘Steve Rogers.’  
‘D’you live nearby? You could come over.’  
‘Sure'n I can, for a bit,’ Steve says. ‘Gotta be home inna hour, get supper ‘fore my ma gets home.’  
Bucky doesn’t ask why. An Irish boy with a ma who works probably means there’s no pa in the picture. So he just nods.  
‘I got the new Cap'n Blood strips. You seen them yet?’  
Steve hasn’t.

***

> _Someday you'll return to_  
>  _Your valleys and your farms_  
>  _And you'll no longer burn to be_  
>  _Brothers in arms_

Steve’s Ma is dead. He just watched his friend bury his last relation, standing beside the grave without even the help of note cards, telling the simple story of Sarah Rogers, a loving wife and mother, who carried on after the death of her husband. It seems too simple to be the tale of Steve’s hard-working, loving Ma, who treated Bucky like a second son and never hesitated even to share their last food with him.  
Steve can’t shed a tear. Bucky cries for them both.

***

 

> _Through these fields of destruction_  
>  _Baptisms of fire_  
>  _I've witnessed your suffering_  
>  _As the battle raged higher_

Steve, the idiot, is trying his hardest to get himself killed, and Bucky’s at his last wit trying to stop him. When Bucky gets called up, he can’t help but think the best course of action would be to chain Steve to their apartment, just so he will stop trying to come with.  
His knucklehead of a brother is trying to join the army with a truckload of health problems and Bucky can’t help but wonder what he’s trying to prove.

***

> _And though they did hurt me so bad_  
>  _In the fear and alarm_  
>  _You did not desert me_  
>  _My brothers in arms_

He’s cold, and the straps holding his arms in place are preventing him from scratching his nose. He wonders how long the Doctor is going to keep him this time, and continues with the mindless litany of name, rank, and serial number.  
He’s going to die, and he misses Steve.

_'I thought you were dead.'  
'I thought you were smaller.'_

***

> _There's so many different worlds_  
>  _So many different suns_  
>  _And we have just one world_  
>  _But we live in different ones_

No, wait. Dying this way, falling from a train, uselessly beating the air and watching Steve’s horrified face and cry, is much so worse than being yet another dead test subject on a table.

*** 

> _Now the sun's gone to hell and_  
>  _The moon's riding high_  
>  _Let me bid you farewell_  
>  _Every man has to die_

He sleeps in the mind-numbing cold, waiting for new orders, a new mission, a new target. He’s always cold, now.  
When they wake him, ready him for the mission, give him the dossiers and files, order his targets’ deaths, he’s still cold.  
When he catches the shield, eyes fixed on the man who threw it, something seems to shift in his head.  
When he fights the man to a standstill, trying his hardest to end his target, something unblocks in his mind, and he remembers fighting this man before, only there was no intent to kill. The moves the man makes are familiar, and try as he might, he can’t seem to slip through the blocks.  
There’s a name which should hold no meaning for him, but somehow, it does.

Then comes the pointless, meaningless lecture from one of Them, the pain, and the cold.

***

> _But it's written in the starlight_  
>  _And every line in your palm_  
>  _We are fools to make war_  
>  _On our brothers in arms_

He comes to stand in front of Rogers, showing his empty hands, and waits for orders. He killed for this man, once, and this man is his brother, even if he can’t remember.  
He can trust him.


End file.
